


The Voices from the Garden

by Scattered_Irises



Series: Scattered Roses in the Palm of Your Hand [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Byron being a good parent, Diary/Journal, Gen, Heartwarming, Heartwrenching, Kid Fic, POV First Person, Silly kid jokes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 15:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15932831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scattered_Irises/pseuds/Scattered_Irises
Summary: A collection of diary entries written by the characters from the Scattered Roses series. Mainly focuses on the misadventures of 10-year old Thomas and 11-year old Kaito. Be ready for heartwarming moments and Thomas's jokes.





	1. Thomas

**Author's Note:**

> This entry follows a 10-year old Thomas who meets Kaito's mother for the first time.

June 20th, 2237

 

 Kaito’s momma is reeeaaallll nice. Like, really, really nice. Well, not as nice as mum, but she’s close. Today she just met me for the first time but she likes me already (I think…). I think I shall pester Chef for pastries to give to her.

 I came to the Tenjo villa today and she gave us some lemonade and these pastries called lemon squares. After she left to take care of the oven, I told Kaito that his momma had a nice pair of knockers and I bet that his dad sucked on them when they had sex. That made Kaito very cross with me. So cross that he punched me. It didn’t hurt much though ‘cause he’s a wimp but I cried anyways just to get Mrs. Tenjo’s attention.

 She came in ( _Boing boing boing_ ) and got real cross at Kaito. Now both of them were cross and I found that quite funny because they resembled each other moreso. When I first met Mrs. Tenjo, she and Kaito didn’t really look the same. Where she was round, he was sharp. Where she was pretty, he was ugly. She looked more like a blueberry while Kaito looked more like a shrunk up strawberry left over from the Saturday market. Asides from both of them talking funny and their bangs, they didn’t seem related.

 Well, I told her Kaito punched me and she got this big surprised look on her face. Afterwards, that made her even angrier. Something along the lines of “That’s not you at all, Kaito!” followed. The best part was when she made Kaito apologise. When he did, he looked like he was ready to punch my teeth out. I stopped crying just in time to hear his apology and oh, was it worth it. Then Mrs. Tenjo let me hug her and boy, her knockers were real nice and soft. I swear I could fall asleep resting on them. Now I’m sure his dad truly does suck on them when they have sex.

 I don’t know exactly what sex is, but I hear that’s what people do when they really like each other in a lovey-dovey way. _Blech._ I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone like that, especially girls. They smell weird and they act very silly.

 After that, she started talking to the both of us. Well, mainly just me. She said I looked familiar. Well, as far back as my memory goes, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her until today. It was probably ‘cause Kaito introduced me as such but she also called me Thom instead of Thomas. That’s fine though. Thomas sounds like a perky, goody two-shoes who stays inside and reads books all day. Just like Christopher.

 She asked about my parents. When I said my mum died when I was 6, she got this real upset look on her face.

 “I’m so sorry that happened..,” she mumbled, wringing her skirt.

 Why do people always apologise whenever I say that? It’s not like they killed her. Nonetheless, I still get teary-eyed whenever I talked about mum for too long. I said my father was a scientist and she said her husband was too. When she asked what sort of scientist, I shrugged. I never really cared about what my father did.

 She then got past the boring talk and got to more interesting things. She talked about what a loser Kaito was and how lucky he was to have me as a friend. Kaito looked like he was about to step into a pot of water and boil it with just how cross he looked. Then she got us on the couch and showed us some photo albums. She sat in the middle because I think she knew Kaito was still a smidge cross at me.

 The albums had a bunch of Kaito’s baby photos. He was doing the usual baby things such as sleeping, eating and laughing. Some pictures also had what I thought was Kaito’s father in it. So that was who he resembled most. His father had a full head of blonde hair and it looked like a spiky halo around his head. He had very pretty purple eyes and was skinny just like Kaito. And just like Kaito, he wore the same style of khakis and shirt. Just in the pictures, his was white and he didn’t wear any suspenders. Then Kaito got real red when she showed us a picture of him being breastfed. Once again, she’s got very nice knockers.

 In all honesty though, I think I was a much better looking baby than Kaito. He looked like a turnip attached to the body of a baby doll. His face was all wrinkly and he looked like an old man.

 I found it really funny how Kaito—who is usually kinda bossy and acts like he knows everything—was moaning _mmmooooommmmmaaaaaaa_ the entire time. At the end of what must have been the worst 27 minutes of his life, Mrs. Tenjo pulled him close and kissed his forehead. He got even redder, if that was possible. It’s been awhile since someone kissed me like that. This might sound odd but I wished that she had kissed me too.

 She felt very nice and warm when I sat up against her. She kinda smelled like mum and her light blue curls tickled my face. Her skin was really soft, too.

 Mum was kinda bony. She was really tall and thin. Usually, her hair would be loose and I often enjoyed playing with it. Her voice was kind of like a man’s, but it was a lot nicer to hear. She said she couldn’t sing but I thought she could. I loved it whenever she sang me to sleep, her voice a low, constant wave. Once she told me that she was a con-tral-to. Contralto. Whatever that means.

 Mrs. Tenjo’s the exact opposite. She’s really short. I’m almost as tall as she is. She’s also quite plump. With a nice pair of knockers.Her hair is tightly curled and some of it is gathered at the top of her head. She truly does remind me of a blueberry. Which makes it funnier still because Kaito reminds me of a strawberry. Momma blueberry and baby strawberry. Ha ha. Her voice is really lady-like and soft.

 Kaito talks almost exactly like her. All southern twangy. I haven’t heard her sing but I bet she also sounds nice. But not mum’s kind of nice. Hers would be more...soft and high, I guess. Like a flute.

 After she put back the albums, she got up and walked into the kitchen to prepare dinner. When we were alone, I whispered to him that his momma also had a nice bum. He elbowed me and got grumpy again.

 “You look a lot like your mum when you get cross,” I told him.

 Kaito’s frown got even deeper.

 “I bet you wished you had a nice bum like hers, don’t you?” I chuckled.

 I could tell he wanted to punch me again and I braced myself. To be honest, I don’t really know what’s so special about a woman’s knockers or her bum. But it got Kaito pretty cross and that was entertaining in itself.

 At first glance, Kaito didn’t look much like his momma. But when you saw his reactions and his personality, you could tell that they were definitely related. He looks more like the man in the photo albums. But when I asked him about his father, he got very upset. It wasn’t even the funny kind of being upset so I just stopped.

 We just kinda sat on the couch there after that. It was pretty awkward. I gave him some space and walked back to the table to eat some more of those lemon squares. I don’t ever remember mum baking or cooking anything for me. Mrs. Tenjo was really good at it.

 I went back to the couch and offered him my half-chewed lemon square. He went to the farthest side of the couch from me after that.

 Just then, his momma began to cough. She told Kaito to take care of the kitchen for her while she headed upstairs. Peeling himself off the couch, Kaito briskly walked over to the kitchen and began stirring whatever was in the pot. It smelled very spicy and fresh.

 I could hear Mrs. Tenjo’s coughing even from downstairs. It sounded very bad. I snuck a glance at Kaito and saw that he had a really worried expression on his face. This isn’t the first time this has happened, I realize. Mrs. Tenjo is probably very ill so I shouldn’t ask Kaito about it much. He’ll only get more upset and I hate it when he gets the serious kind of upset. He seems like Christopher whenever that happens.

 “Is your mum alright…?” I ask from the couch.

 Nonetheless, I still needed to have manners. You couldn’t possibly ignore a bout of coughing like that.

 Kaito looked up from the pot and glared at me. “What do you think?”

 Yes. Definitely a sensitive topic. Like my mum’s pipe problem before she died.

 Another awkward moment of silence. Then I heard Mrs. Tenjo’s footsteps as she came downstairs. She had a weak smile on her face and tried to stand straight. Yet as she went down the stairs, her back was slightly bent.

 “Would you care to join us for supper, Thom?” she asked as she took the spoon away from Kaito. “I’m makin’ gumbo and it’d be a shame if it was just me n’Kaito.”

 I perked up. Whatever it was, it smelled good so it probably tasted good. I gave Mrs. Tenjo my best smile. The one I usually reserve for asking for toys or for buttering stupid Chris up with. And before that, the smile I usually greeted mum with when she entered the room.

 “Sure!” I chirped.

 Mrs. Tenjo beamed. She has some really nice dimples.

 The gumbo was kinda spicy but I liked it. At home, we don’t ever have foods like this. They lack...Mrs. Tenjo’s spirit. The sun was starting to set after we finished supper so I got up and thanked Mrs. Tenjo for the meal and decided to head home. She allowed Kaito to accompany me and we talked about the stars and planets on the way home. It seems like a good meal can lift anybody’s spirits, even grumpy old Kaito’s.

  Going through the garden gates, I realized that this was the first time in four years that I had shared a meal with a lady. The last time was during mum’s funeral.


	2. Thomas

June 21, 2237

 

Father got surprised when I told him about Mrs. Tenjo. When I asked him what the matter was, he said that it was nothing. That's just adult-speak for “something but it doesn't concern you.”  Maybe my father knew her from back then. Maybe he sucked her knockers.

 

Today I gave her some cookies and flowers. She thanked me and ruffled my hair. We had dinner together again and when Kaito walked me home, he was really quiet.

 

“If you're still upset about me talking about your mum’s knockers and bum, I’m sorry,” I said loudly. 

 

Kaito was still quiet, his footsteps crunching in the grass. _Crnch. Crnch._ After a few more steps, he suddenly stopped.

 

“Why're you sucking up to her?” growled Kaito.

 

 _Sucking._ At first, I thought he meant quite literally. As far as I remember, I've only been breastfed by my mum. I didn't think Mrs. Tenjo still had milk, judging from how old Kaito was, but maybe Kaito still breastfeeds and perhaps he thought that I was stealing some of the milk that rightfully belonged to him. The thought of Kaito still breastfeeding at 11 years old made me snort a bit and that got Kaito angrier...Now that I think of it, had he still drank milk from his momma, I'm sure he'd be a lot taller than this. 

 

 “You’re so fake,” he snapped. “First you make rude comments about my momma’s body, then you give her flowers n’ candy like a goody-two-shoes. What’re you tryn’a do?”

 

I don't know why but that kind of upset me. I just wanted to give her flowers. She looked like she needed them. She seemed ill and I wanted to help her feel a little bit better. That's what I did when mum was on the pipe. She always smiled when I gave her the flowers, whether it be wild flowers or flowers from the hothouse. I think she liked the wildflowers better. But her smile became smaller and smaller the more she used the pipe. On the day I brought her the last flowers, she didn't smile at all. They were wild grown snow-carpets, one of her favourites.

 

Mum couldn't smile at all because she was dead.  I didn't know at the time but when I thought back to that, I just started crying and then Kaito got that real worried look on his face. He's going to be a good brother someday, unlike me. Despite his grumpy demeanor, he's actually got a really good heart. Sometimes, I wonder if I'll cry more, he'll be more nicer towards me. Probably not. He doesn't like cry babies.

 

 Kaito helped me sit down and I told him about mum.  All of it. Kaito held me in his arms as I cried and I realized I haven't been held like this since mum died and it only made me cry harder so I cried and cried until Kaito’s shirt was wet with my tears.

 

  After I pulled away, Kaito was really quiet. Then he took my hands and looked me real close in the eye. His chin was wavering and his eyes were also filled with tears. Oh dear, for a moment, I thought crying was an infectious disease. 

 

“When the time comes, we'll have each other,” he told me in his soft voice. 

 

He rarely uses that voice, but when he does, I feel all warm inside. It's like he could pet a cat with that voice, with how soft he sounded. Too bad he sounds like a drunk donkey most of the time, with all of his yowling and y'alls. I don't know what he meant when he said that, but afterwards, Kaito pulled me into another hug and after that we both just started crying into each other's arms. I didn't know why he was crying but it felt weird. He's always known what to do so when he starts crying, I knew that it was bad.

  

We're all hurting inside, no matter how happy we seem. No matter how stoic or smart we are. Even Chris is probably hurting.  Maybe that's why he reads so much. To escape from reality.

 

After mum died, none of us were ever the same. Chris got more bossy. Father became a lot more...sadder. Despite his smiles, they were never as bright as before. Perhaps baby Michael didn't change as much. But he lives in aunt Chloe's shadow. She died when I was only two, but  sometimes, father still talks about her. He talks about her with his old smile. The one before mum died. But he talks about mum sadly. Even when he’s remembering a happy memory with Mum, his smile still looks sad. It's like mum makes him sad while aunt Chloe doesn't. That doesn't make sense at all.

 

After we both cried our eyes out, we just sat in the grass, looking up at the sky for the longest time. All the cloud shapes looked sad today. One looked like a pregnant woman. I thought of mum and how sad she seemed when she was with Michael. Or, that's how the photographs made her look. Then, Kaito squeezed my hand again and I looked into his pale blue eyes. Who knows where he gets those eyes from? They're such a pretty and sad colour at the same time. It's like...a boy's nursery room, but the paint has faded away. 

 

“Momma's really sick, even if she says she's fine," he murmurs, his voice shaking.

 

I didn't know what to say to that so I just held his hand and squeezed it. I'm not going to apologize for his momma being sick. That's weird.  I didn't cause it and I don't think he'd like to hear that either.

After a while, Kaito got up and wiped his snotty nose. Then he helped me up.

 

“Let's take you home, Thom,” he said in his soft voice.

 

The rest of the walk to the garden gate was too quiet for my tastes.  But we were out of things to say after our rain shower.

 

After the gate closed, I waved goodbye to Kaito and watched him leave. From afar, you would think that he was an old man with a weight on his shoulders. I think we all have weights to carry, aware of it or not. Mine's and Kaito’s just got a bit lighter knowing that we aren't alone.


	3. Thomas

November 13, 2237

 

 It’s so cold. I hate it. So would mum. But there Kaito was, climbing over our gate and throwing a snowball at my room’s window. It landed against the glass with a thump and I jumped up from the tea party I was having with Melissa and Clarabelle. Oh gods, if Kaito ever discovered I still played with dolls...Yes, it’s a baby’s game, but not if you play it like I do. I give them respect and treat them like individuals because that’s what mum taught me to do. Plus I’m the only one left in this house who remembers all of their names.

 

 I apologized to Melissa and Clarabelle and headed towards the window. At the bottom of the window, Kaito looked up at me with a radiant smile, his face flushed, his eyes shining, his body entirely ablaze despite the cold. Something good must have happened because he was absolutely ecstatic. I opened the window a smidge, reluctant to let the cold air in. The tiny gust of  wind that slithered through made me shiver. Damnit, Kaito.

 

 Waving his hand, he looked up at me and his smile widened. For a brief second, he looked almost beautiful. _It would be nice if he smiled more_ , I thought for a split second. _He’d be a lot more lovable if he were._ His eyes were so pretty in this light, bright and cheerful. Like the sky on a sunny day. Sometimes, I wish I could smile like him, all bright and beautiful like that. Did he even realize how nice he looked with that smile?

 

   “Come out here! I wanna tell you somethin’!” he said cheerfully.

 

 I looked behind me nervously. I hoped Melissa and Clarabelle wouldn’t mind…Turning back to the window, I gave Kaito a small smile.

 

 “Of course. I’ll be down in a bit.”

 

 Grabbing a coat and a scarf, I rushed downstairs to the smells of breakfast and tea. My stomach growled a bit and I grabbed a piece of toast. Chris looked at me in reprove and I stuck my tongue out at him. Besides him, Michael let out a giggle.

 

 “Sit down and eat breakfast like the rest of us,” Chris muttered as he buttered up his toast.

 

 “Kaito wants to tell me something important!” I protested through a mouth full of food. The crumbs sprayed my brother but I thought he kind of deserved it. Michael tried to stifle his laughter into his napkin to no avail.

 

 “That’s disgusting, brother Thomas,” chuckled Michael.

 

 Chris narrowed his eyes and twisted his mouth. When he does that, he looks a lot like grandmother. In all of her pictures, she always looks as if she’s smelled something bad. Father says she always looked like that, even as a young girl. Well, I barely remember her, but I think she and Chris would have gotten along quite well. They both had ghastly pale skin, lanky limbs and shockingly white hair. Like ghosts. When I was younger, her photos often frightened me. The darkness only made them more terrifying.

 

 “It’s always about your new friend. Kaito this, Kaito that.” My brother paused and took a bite of his toast. He methodically chewed 10 times (I counted) and swallowed before he spoke. “Frankly, I’ve grown quite tired hearing about him.”

 

 I balled my hands into fists. The red wave of anger threatened to spill over.

 

 “I’ve grown quite tired of hearing _you_ ,” I retorted. “Maybe you’re just jealous because you have no friends.”

 

 That stung Chris more than I expected. Unlike grandmother, he had a delicate shell. Although he appeared to be solid, if you pushed the correct buttons, he’d easily collapse. I saw his hard expression crumble and his blue eyes sadden a bit. His chin trembled and he took a bite of his toast. Even so, he still looked like a fairytale prince and I hated him for that. Noticing the change in the atmosphere, my father called us out from the head of the table.

 

 “Be civilized, both of you..,” he sighed in exasperation. “Thomas, why don’t you invite your friend inside?”

 

 I beamed. Gobbling up the last of my toast, I ran outside and met Kaito. His cheeks were still red and he sniffled a bit.

 “Took you long enough,” sniffled Kaito. But his smile was still there, still radiant.

 

 “My father said to invite you in for breakfast,” I said.

 

 “I already had some, but thanks,” he replied.

 

 “My family would love to meet you anyways. Well, maybe not Chris...but…”

 

 I grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards the door. For some reason, I felt resistance. Turning around, I saw that Kaito’s smile had wavered a bit.

 

 “Th...that’d be nice..,” he mumbled. “It’s just...my momma doesn’t want me to go in…”

 

  My steps slowed a bit.

 

 “Why?” I asked.

 

 Kaito shook his head.

 

 “It’s just something about the Resurrection..,” he murmured. “She isn’t comfortable with me in such places…”

 

 I frowned and tugged on his arm a bit.

 

 “What does she think we’d do to you? Tie you up and eat you alive?”

 

 Kaito looked away for a bit, his misty breath clouding around his head. I sighed a bit and let go of his hand. When Kaito said no, he meant it.

 

 “It’s fine if you don’t want to go inside..,” I mumbled. “What did you want to tell me?”

 

 A small smile returned to Kaito’s face. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, filled to the brim with excitement.

 

 “Momma’s pregnant,” he told me, his smile widening.

 

 In his excitement, he took my two hands and squeezed them.

 

 “I can’t wait to be a brother,” he whispered, the glow returning to his face.

 

 I mustered up a smile in return. To be honest, I can’t remember how I reacted when mum said she was going to have Michael. I was only two, after all. But I could tell that Kaito would love and cherish his new sibling as if they were gold. I felt a brief flicker of envy at the pit of my stomach without understanding why. My smile faltered a bit.

 

 In a rare moment of confusion, Kaito tilted his head a small bit and his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

 

 “Are you alright, Thom?” he asked in his soft voice.

 

 “I’m fine. Really,” I lied. “It’s just, I don’t remember how I felt when Michael was announced…”

 

 No, that wasn’t why. It was something else. But what?

 

 Kaito nodded. Then he pulled his hands away.

 

 “I’ll leave you to your breakfast. Maybe I’ll see you later?”

 

 “Yeah,” I replied.

 

 Secretly, I didn’t want to see him again today. But why? Walking back inside, my father looked expectantly to find my friend besides me. When Kaito wasn’t there, he frowned a bit.

 

 “Where is your friend?” he asked.

 

 I shook my head, feeling my hands ball into fists. Why was I so angry all of a sudden?

 

 “He had some family business to attend to,” I mumbled.

 

 Plopping myself back at my seat, I ate a bit.

 

 “He just wanted to tell me that his momma was pregnant.”

 

 I took a piece of toast and slowly bit into it. Somehow, that news about Mrs. Tenjo surprised my father. His bushy eyebrows were raised and he polished his monocle with the hem of the tablecloth. Then his eyebrows furrowed a bit. For some reason, there was the slightest hint of a frown in his lips.

 

“Marleen? Pregnant? Isn’t she ill?”

 

 She was, wasn’t she? I had just remembered that. Even if she was...she still wanted to give Kaito what he had always wanted. He still had a mother who loved him beyond means of description. Ah. So that was why I felt so envious. When I realized that, a wave of guilt washed over me and my eyes brimmed with tears.

 

 Briefly excusing myself from the table, I ran upstairs and freely wept onto my bed. I shouldn’t have been jealous of him. I shouldn’t have. His momma was ill. And she was doing all of this for him. Even if it would have killed her. Kaito and I both knew that his momma was dying without needing to say it. And she must have known too...yet she still loved him so, so much.

 

 Nearing the end of her life, mum didn’t do this for me. _It was none of her fault though_ , was what I was repeatedly told. It was the opium. It was the pipe.

 

She still loved me until the very end. Or did she?

 

 Soon after, I heard a soft knocking at the door and my father’s gentle voice on the other side.

 

 “Thomas, may I come in?”

 

 I tried to reply, but only a sob came through my throat. Gently, my father opened the door and sat besides me on the bed. He patted my head and I dragged myself closer to him. Then he held me close.

 

 “Do you want to talk about it?” he murmured, stroking my hair.

 

 Unlike most adults, he never asks if I’m alright or not when I’m crying. Clearly, when you’re crying, there is something obviously wrong. I appreciate that my father knows this fact and opts for a more direct question.

 

 “It’s not fair,” I mumbled. “He still has a mother and I don’t.”

 

 Even without looking, I knew that fact pained my father greatly. He had never wished to remarry. When we asked why, he said that the love of his life was already buried in the earth. Then we pushed him further and he said that the other person he loved (Less than mum) was already married.

 

 Quietly, my father held me and kissed my forehead.

 

 “Your mother was a wonderful woman..,” he murmured, his voice shaking. “We were so close…when she passed...I…”

 

 He held me closer. Unlike most fathers of the Resurrection, he wasn’t afraid of showing vulnerability to his children. I had often seen him cry before, yet every time it happened, my heart wrenched. This time, it was no difference.

 

 I don’t know how long we cried together, but it was for awhile. At the end, we just silently held one another. Somewhere downstairs, we heard Chris cleaning up the remnants of breakfast.

 


	4. Marleen

****

November 15, 2237

 

_ Knock knock.  _

 

 Well. Robert certainly doesn’t knock. He just barges in. Thom doesn’t knock like that. He knocks more like the house is on fire and he needs to get us out. Kaito knocks louder and always announces his presence. But he was at the table, studying. So then who could it be?

 

_ Knock knock.  _

 

 It’s so quiet and polite. A door-to-door salesman? Out here, in the middle of nowhere? Fat chance. Well...it did bring to mind a certain someone...but they’re dead now so it sure as hell isn’t them. 

 

  “Momma do you want me to get it for you?” asked Kaito, looking up from his workbook. 

 

   Such a sweet little boy. Sometimes, I wonder what kind of divine mishap it took for someone as sweet as him to have ended up with someone as terrible as Robert and me. 

 

   “No, it’s fine,” I said as I got up. 

 

 “Momma are you sure? You threw up this morning and I–”

 

 I held up a hand and he immediately quieted. I had forgotten how it felt to be pregnant. The nausea, the heaviness...the aches. Maybe that was from the sickness, but who knows? Looking out the window, my mood immediately sours. I’d rather have a door-to-door salesman than the person out there. Hell, even the sight of my whole family would have been more welcoming than the person there.  

 As always, Byron’s impeccably dressed. Monocle, cravat, waistcoat and suit. All dressed up with nowhere to go. I just can’t understand these people. How can they live like this? Wearing uncomfortable outfits, drinking tea, attending parties and doing nothing productive. I think I’d die. Even though I don’t work anymore, I still do some freelance tinkering and small little projects. The concept of just sitting down in the sun and  doing nothing is alien to me. Looking at him, he doesn’t even look like he builds machines for fun. 

 

To be honest, I can’t remember the last time he showed up at our door, but I already want him to walk the other way. Narrowing my eyes, I open the door. The cold air flutters through and it improves my mood a small bit. 

 

 “Good morning, Marleen. May I come in?” he asks, polite as always. 

 

  He’s always irritatingly polite. It’s probably all just an act. And a long one at that. It’s been almost 20 years since I’ve met him and yet he’s still as polite as ever.  _ Patronizing me. _ That’s the kind of person I hate the most. I’d rather leave him out there, but I was raised better, like it or not. Southern hospitality and all. Opening up the door a bit more, I let him in and told Kaito to get a glass of water. 

 

 Hesitantly, he sits on the sofa. It’s like he’s wary of the furniture containing a disease or something. Gods, I just can’t stand him. It’s not like the furniture at his house is any better. His furniture looks as if it belonged in a museum more than a McMansion. At least someone could sleep on the couch here if they were having a rough night. Where would Byron sleep when his wife kicked him out? On second thought, he’s so irritatingly nice and polite that it’d be hard to find a reason to kick him out of bed.  _ I hate that. _ I reluctantly sit across from him, my arms crossed, my eyes narrowed. This better be worth it. Actually, who am I kidding?

 

 “To what do I owe you this visit?” I muttered. 

 

 Byron’s eyebrows furrowed for a brief moment. He knows that I despise him, yet he continues to bother me. 

 

 “How are you faring?” he asks. 

 

 I almost want to roll my eyes at him. It’s probably been years since we last saw each other and this was the best he could come up with? 

 

 “I’m fine,” I reply tersely. 

 

 Yes, being barred from working with my husband and ostracized by my family even after all these years is fine. 

 

 Kaito places our best glass on the table in front of Byron. Sensing the tense situation, he quickly walks upstairs. Byron watches him go, his expression unreadable. After Kaito’s left, he turns back to me. 

 

 “I was told that you were with child again,” he says. 

 

 It sounds like an accusation. I bristle at the thought of Robert talking about me behind my back. But that isn’t like Robert. He keeps to himself, never talking about his personal life. But there’s no one else who would tell this to Byron. Did Byron ask about me at work?  _ Ugh.  _

 

 “So?” I ask. 

 

 “You’re ill,” murmurs Byron. “I’m worried about your health.”

 

 “You’re not my doctor,” I say snappishly. “Go worry about your own family.”

 

 “I know that Fa–Robert...doesn’t come home often. I just want you to know that if you need anything, I’m just next door.”

 

 Hell will freeze over the day I come over there. 

 

 “Well, I’m fine and dandy staying here. And I think you’ll be better off in your own mansion too,” I say icily. 

 

 Hurt flickers across his face. 

 

 “Sometimes, I wish we could get along as well as our sons do,” he murmurs. 

 

 ... _ What? Our sons?  _ He couldn’t possibly mean... I tried not to let the surprise show on my face, but I guess it happened anyways. Byron raised an eyebrow and took a hesitant sip of water. 

 

 “You didn’t know?” he asked quietly. 

 

 Thom? Messy, wild and energetic Thom? No, no, it couldn’t be. But who else was Kaito friends with? There was no one around except the Arclights for miles. Perhaps I had been deluding myself. I should have known. I look at Byron closely, beginning to see the similarities between Thom and him. The same set of thick eyebrows, the same sunny complexion. A small, nervous smile fills Byron’s face and there’s an urge to splash the glass of water on his face.  _ So patronizing.  _

 

 Then I realized that Thom also has his smile. 

 

“No, I didn’t,” I grudgingly admit. 

 

 A chuckle bubbles up from Byron’s throat. It’s the laugh he uses whenever Robert or I do something unexpected. 

 

 “As Robert’s friend, I want you to be healthy so Robert can be happy,” he says gently. “I know that we never got along as colleagues, but can’t we be good neighbors?”

 

 I narrow my eyes at him. Growing up, the neighbors were my cousins. I never had any stranger barging into our house asking for a cup of sugar. More often it was a cousin asking for my meemaw’s pancakes. 

 

 “Really, Byron. What drives you to be so nice to me? I try my hardest to stay away from you, yet you keep on coming back. You’d give a boomerang a run for its money,” I drawl. 

 

 And here I go again,with the relentless verbal abuse. It’s like we’ve never left the workplace. 

 

 Byron laughs a bit and takes a sip of his water. 

 

 “I genuinely care for your husband. To me, that also means caring for the person he loves the most in his life. There is no love lost between us, I know, but I feel compelled to look out for you, just the same. The thought of developing a friendship between us still resurfaces every once in awhile, but I know it’s a foolish thought.”

 

 He gives me a boyish smile, so much like Thom’s. I think back to the time Thom asked me for another lemon square. The silence continues to stretch on and I look outside the window. Byron gently clears his throat and I turn back to him. 

 

 “I didn’t wish to come off as intruding–”

 

 “But you did,” I interrupted irritatedly. 

 

 He nodded and had the grace to blush. 

 

 “I just wanted to congratulate you.” He looks upstairs, a soft smile on his face. “You’ve raised the first one very well.”

 

 “Thanks,” I mutter. 

 

Slowly, he stands up. 

 

 “Well, I think I’ve overstayed my visit. I wish you the best of luck. And if you are in need of anything––”

 

 “I don’t,” I say calmly. 

 

 With a graceful nod, he showed himself to the door and left. Good riddance. I leaned into the chair’s cushions and let out a sigh. The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs followed. 

 

 “You heard everything, didn’t you? Don’t fake it,” I call to Kaito. 

 

 He doesn’t deny it, nor confirm it. He just walks up to the coffee table and takes Byron’s glass of water away. 

 


End file.
